by Rachel Aukes
Three days later, the Gryphon broke free from Playa’s atmosphere and cruised into the smooth blackness of space, where Reyne could usually find some semblance of peace. Only this time, their current run weighed heavily on his mind.
“I can’t believe we’re going to the Space Coast,” Throttle said, not even trying to hide the excitement in her voice. “I’ve never been in a real asteroid belt before. Is it as dangerous as they say?”
He reined himself in from his thoughts. “Worse, and it’s not because of the asteroids. The rocks move slowly. They’re easy to miss. The danger with asteroid belts is what they hide. Once you enter the Coast, you have to keep one eye on the lookout for asteroids and the other eye on the lookout for pirates.”
She rubbed her hands together. “I can handle that.”
Reyne smiled. “I know you can, but rest up. I want you at the top of your game when we enter the Coast. There’s a reason even the CUF won’t go near there.”
“The ship’s running better than ever,” she said. “Flight plan shows we’ll reach Nova Colony in twenty-six hours.”
“Good,” he said, unbuckling from his seat and crossing the bridge. “I want to get this deal over with. Keep running diagnostics. Vym didn’t repair the Gryphon out of the goodness of her heart. She’s got something up her sleeve.”
He headed down the hallway to the commons to find Boden, Doc, and Sixx snacking from a bowl of raisins.
“Taking a break already?” Reyne asked.
“We’ve searched the ship,” Sixx said. “We didn’t find anything.”
Reyne rubbed his neck. “There’s no way Vym fixed the ship without leaving her grubby prints somewhere on it. Keep searching.”
“We were thorough,” Doc said. “We’ve scoured the cargo bay and went through every cabinet. If she’s smuggling something, we’re not going to find it without taking the ship apart piece by piece.”
Reyne grabbed a handful of raisins from the bowl. “Then, you need to start taking it apart piece by piece.”
Her jaw dropped. “You can’t possibly want us to open every panel.”
“That’s exactly what I want. I need to know what she’s having us smuggle for her before we get to Nova Colony.”
The crew in the room let out a collective groan.
“Sure thing, boss. We’ll get started on finding that needle in a haystack…right after break, of course.” Sixx popped a raisin in his mouth. “So, fill us in. Who’s this mysterious contact Vym is having you meet at Nova Colony?”
“Some man by the name of Critch,” Boden offered before digging out a handful of raisins.
Reyne glared at his mechanic, but it was already too late. By the look of Doc’s blanched face, she remembered that name all too well.
“We’re going to Nova Colony to see Critch?” she asked softly.
“No, we’re going to Nova Colony, where I’m going to see Critch. You’re all staying on the ship,” Reyne replied.
“That’s a suicide mission,” she countered.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Reyne chewed on his raisins.
“Who’s Critch?” Sixx asked.
“He’s a pirate,” Doc said, narrowing her eyes in a sideways glance directed at Reyne. “A very dangerous pirate.”
“Psh,” Sixx said. “Pirates are overrated.”
“He captains the Honorless,” she added.
“Oh.” Sixx’s eyes widened, and he turned to Reyne. “Doc’s right. It’s a suicide mission. Why aren’t we running the other way?”
Finding his stomach suddenly without appetite, Reyne threw his remaining raisins back into the bowl. As he strode from the commons, he heard Doc begin a tale he had no desire to hear again.
“Critch is more than a pirate,” Doc continued. “You know the story that Reyne was one of the two torrent marshals at the Siege of Terra during the Uprising. You’ve also heard how Reyne disappeared just before the Battle of Broken Mountain, leaving behind an inexperienced marshal half his age?”
“Of course,” Sixx said. “Everyone’s heard that story, but anyone who’s ever met Reyne wouldn’t believe it for a minute.”
“Well, Critch was that other marshal.”
Reyne picked up his pace back to the bridge so that he could no longer hear the crew’s conversation.
“Hey,” Throttle said. “I was just going to ping you.”
Relieved for the distraction, he headed over to her. “What’d you find?”
“I don’t know yet, but Vym has definitely put something on the ship. I’ve been running the numbers against our power usage. We’re running heavier.”
He frowned. “How much heavier?”
“It’s significant. If I’m reading this right, we’re carrying a few hundred extra kilograms.”
“Show me.”
Her fingers flew over the instrument panel until the list of weight-and-balance calculations were brought to the forefront. He ran his finger down each line item until he came to the variance.
“Four hundred and twenty-nine kilos. It can’t be.” A shiver climbed his spine, and he found himself lightheaded. He grabbed ahold of the panel’s edge.
“What is it?” she asked.
He took a deep breath. “The Gryphon used to weigh a bit more in her early days. Four hundred and twenty-nine extra kilos, to be exact.”
He had to see the truth for himself. He hustled to his seat and ran through the menus.
“Reyne?”
He watched as a series of green lights came to life. Lines of text began to scroll.
“Reyne, seriously. What the hell’s going on?”
Without looking up, he pointed in her direction. “Language.”
She let out an exasperated sigh, but he read the text repeatedly before he believed it wasn’t some error.
“That can’t be right.”
Reyne jerked around to find that Throttle had rolled up next to him and was reading the screen.
She pointed to the text. “Tell me that can’t be right.”
He read the seven lines one more time.
Phase Cannon: Operational and Armed.
Photon Gun One: Operational and Armed.
Photon Gun Two: Operational and Armed.
Photon Gun Three: Operational and Armed.
Photon Gun Four: Operational and Armed.
Photon Gun Five: Operational and Armed.
Photon Gun Six: Operational and Armed.
“Why would Vym arm the Gryphon?” she asked.
He took a deep breath. “My guess? Vym never gave up hope on the Uprising, and she’s pulling us into her torrent army, whether we volunteer or not.”
After a moment, Throttle’s lips curled upward. “It’s about viggin’ time.”
Chapter Seven
The Trouble with Pirates
Reyne woke the following morning with a hard reminder that with whiskey came hangovers. He still had all the memories he’d attempted to drown, except now he had a hell of a pounding headache to go along with them.
He gently lifted the arm draped across his chest and climbed out of bed. Doc mumbled something incoherent before rolling onto her other side. He didn’t need to dress since he hadn’t bothered to undress the night before. He buckled his pants and stumbled from his quarters and to the commons. There, he went straight for a juice bag and chugged the entire contents.
“Rough night?”
Reyne turned to find Sixx eating breakfast, realizing the other man had been sitting there the entire time. Reyne tossed the empty bag and grabbed a second juice bag before pulling out a chair and plopping down.
“Throttle told me about our upgrades.” Sixx whistled. “That’s some serious armament. Any theories?”
“Working on it.”
“Hopefully, we don’t run into a CUF cruiser. They’ll be in for one hell of a surprise when they scan us. We’ll spend the rest of our about-to-become incredibly short lives munching on vigs and cockroaches in the Citadel.”
Reyne shook his head
slowly, wincing at the movement. “The Gryphon might be a hauler now, but she’s got the heart of a gunship. Her hull’s been reinforced with rilon, with a couple extra layers covering the gun bays. No ramp scan would pick them up, and Vym knows this.”
“Well, aren’t we lucky?”
Reyne grunted. “Now, if the CUF did a manual search of the gun bays—”
“We’d be screwed,” Sixx finished for him.
“Yeah, we’d be screwed.”
With a sigh, he pushed to his feet. Now that he could string together semi-rational thoughts through the sledge hammer pounding a staccato rhythm in his brain, he headed toward the bridge. It was empty—Throttle would still be in bed after they spent most of the night hailing Ice Port. To no surprise, Vym hadn’t responded to any of his pings.
The old woman wasn’t dumb. She had to have known that they would discover the armaments. Why hadn’t she said something back on Ice Port? More importantly, what the hell was she planning?
He had a sinking feeling he’d been set up to deliver a gunship to a torrent crew of Vym’s choosing at Nova Colony, and Critch would be there to clean up loose ends—namely, Reyne and his crew. If that were the case, Vym would quickly learn that Reyne wouldn’t give up his ship without a fight. He’d have no problem using his new phase cannon to protect his ship and his crew.
A bell chimed, and Reyne checked the notification. He pinged Throttle’s comm. “You’d better get up here if you want to fly through an asteroid belt.”
After a delay, she grumbled, “Coming.”
Moments later, Throttle wheeled onto the bridge—her eyes still half-closed—and locked in at her panel.
He watched her. “You sure you’re up to this?”
She yawned and stretched. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.” She pulled her mussed-up hair into a ponytail before turning her focus to the instruments. She cracked her knuckles. And, just like that, she was all business. “All right. Switching to manual controls. Maintaining speed until we hit the edge of the Coast. Then, we’ll drop down to half-speed to avoid any big, ugly rocks.”
“And pirates,” Reyne added, but she didn’t acknowledge him, already deep into her own world.
He grabbed the comm and announced to the ship, “We’re coming up on the Space Coast in ten minutes. Lock down anything that can be locked down and strap in. Get ready for a bumpy ride.”
In an asteroid belt, the larger asteroids were easy to avoid. It was the much smaller meteoroids—called mosquitoes—that wreaked havoc on hulls. Throttle’s jagged flight plan appeared on Reyne’s screen, and he began running scans for bogeys along the grid.
“I’m pulling in the solar sails now and switching on the Flux engine,” she announced.
A moment later, Reyne felt the ship slow down.
“I’m starting the run-up sequence for the jump shields,” she continued.
When Throttle was a little girl and first took the controls of the Gryphon, Reyne made her talk through every single thing she needed to do to pilot the ship. It was a habit that helped her learn faster, and a habit she’d never given up. Thankfully, she no longer voiced each and every keystroke that she used to be so keen on doing.
“Jump shields are active at one hundred percent,” she said before adding, “Bring on the rocks.”
The Space Coast filled the view screen, a majestic expanse that was both awe striking and ominous. Reyne found it surreal—a three-dimensional black beach of rocks, some large enough to hold the entire CUF fleet, while others were small pebbles. The belt moved slowly. One would have to watch the asteroids for some time to discern any hint of movement. However, the devils would sneak up on a pilot if he weren’t paying attention.
The Space Coast was a dangerous beauty.
It’d been too long since he’d been out there. When he returned from CUF service, he practically lived on the Coast. He honed his skills on the Coast, constantly pushing himself to fly faster and turn harder as he made the annual Coastal Run. He never won, but he always placed in the top ten, and—more importantly—he always survived.
Seeing the Coast made Reyne regret that he’d been too protective of Throttle. She would love flying the Coastal Run, and, unlike him, she’d win.
An alarm beeped, warning them they’d broken the Space Coast barrier. Autopilot would no longer be available, because the Coastal grid was constantly changing, not that Throttle would ever dream of using autopilot out here.
“Looks like I’m just in time.”
Reyne turned around to see Sixx take a seat and strap in. “Damn, the Coast sure is a sight. It’s been too long.”
“Yeah.” Reyne’s nostalgia disappeared when the Gryphon veered a hard left. With his attention back on the view panel, he watched as Throttle maneuvered around a cluster of mid-sized rocks, making sharp turns…on purpose.
His eyes widened as a brown rock became a bull’s-eye on the view panel. “Throttle, I assume you see the ship-killer at our twelve o’clock.”
“Relax, I’ve got it,” she said before banking right and narrowly missing the boulder.
“Cutting it a little close, are we?” Sixx asked.
Throttle grinned.
The rocks became fewer and larger, and Reyne relaxed in his seat and began to zoom in on the larger asteroids.
“Hm,” Throttle said.
Reyne looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“This is nothing compared to outrunning a star swarm,” she replied.
“Think of it this way,” Sixx began. “The life expectancy of a pilot in a swarm is roughly eight point two seconds. Then, compare that to the Coast where people choose to live out nice, semi-long lives. So yeah, the two are nothing alike.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I know, but I didn’t expect flying the Coast to be so boring.”
“Boring is good when it comes to flying,” Reyne said. “It’s the high-adrenaline moments when a pilot has to worry.”
She straightened. “Ooh, I have an idea. Can we try out the phase cannon on a few rocks?”
“I think firing the phase cannon is a great idea,” Sixx added.
“No,” Reyne answered.
“How about the photon guns?” she asked.
“I think firing the photon guns is a great idea,” Sixx tacked on.
“No.” Reyne pointed at Sixx. “And you’re not helping.”
“Old guy’s a real party pooper,” Sixx grumbled.
“I’m not old,” Reyne defended.
Throttle chortled. “You’re old. You even walk like an old guy.”
“It’s called arthritis. You’d better be careful. Young space jockeys can get it, too.”
Sixx joined in. “Keep telling yourself that, old guy.”
As Sixx and Throttle continued bantering at Reyne’s expense, he focused on his panel. His eyes narrowed on a large rock in their path. He zoomed in as far as the camera would go, to where the image became pixelated. The rock was dark, nearly pure black, with specks of brown pockmarking its surface. At its edge, something the color of dark gray peeked out.
The color of rilon.
“Throttle, you might get that excitement you were looking for,” he said.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“We have a tail,” he announced. “But I can’t get an ID.”
“Where?” Sixx’s seat buckle clinked as the man hustled to peer over Reyne’s shoulder.
“I’m marking the rock in quadrant one-seven-four,” Reyne said.
“Firing the phase cannon is sounding better every minute,” Sixx said.
He glanced back at the other man. “Let’s hope it doesn’t have to come to that.” He returned to his console. “The bogey hasn’t moved, and sensors show no sign of their engines firing up.”
“Maybe they haven’t seen us,” Throttle offered.
Sixx chuckled. “You’re one hell of an optimist.”
“Shut off all nav lights,” Reyne commanded. “On the off chance your optimism turns out to be reality, we don�
��t need to be lit up like a Spaten whore.”
He then clenched the comm in his hand and broadcast his next words to the entire crew. “Heads up, everyone. Seems we have a player waiting on the sidelines who might try to jump into the game.”
He turned to Throttle. “We’ve got a Flux Whisper. Chances are, they don’t have anything near that caliber. Problem is, we don’t know the Coast like the back of our hands, and I’d lay bets that they do. If they try to take us, do you want to outrun them? It’s your call.”
“Hell yes,” she replied far too quickly.
“Okay, then. It’s your party. We’ll cover you.” He nodded to Sixx. “You take the forward guns. I’ll take the aft.”
“Aye, aye, boss.” Sixx buckled back into his seat.
“You won’t need the guns,” Throttle said with confidence.
“Let’s hope that’s the case,” Reyne cautioned as he opened the weapons console. “Give them a wide berth, Throttle. Make it clear we know they’re out there.”
“Wilco,” she said.
Tension built up within Reyne’s shoulders as they closed the distance. He didn’t take his eyes off the bogey. “We might get lucky. The scans haven’t picked up any signs of it powering up yet.”
Throttle angled the Gryphon to place a mid-sized rock between the two ships.
He held his breath as they passed the bogey. “Still no change.”
As soon as they were beyond the ship, its engine flared to life, and it shot out from its cover.
“He’s out and on our ass,” Reyne called out. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves some pirates. Find us some distance, Throttle.”
The Gryphon’s engine set the entire ship in a teeth-rattling, humming vibration. The next instant, Reyne found himself pressed against the back of his seat. He opened the gun bays and started sighting in each of the aft photon guns.
Throttle took the ship in aggressive twists and sharp turns, nearly skimming rocks. As expected, the pirate ship didn’t have the speed of the Gryphon, and the distance grew between them. Reyne lost visual with the bogey when Throttle banked around a large rock.
“I think we lost them,” she said.
Just then, a larger ship popped out from a cavern within the rock directly in front of them and shot out an EMP net.